


Summer Sky

by skysonfire



Category: Star Wars-ish
Genre: Cider, Crossover one shot, Don't Judge Me, F/M, Guavian Death Gang - Freeform, I Don't Even Know, Star Wars - Freeform, Summer Heat, This was an experiment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 08:43:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8660329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysonfire/pseuds/skysonfire
Summary: Guys, I don't know. This is a Bala-Tik-ish one shot set in our world and inspired by the actor who plays him, Brian Vernell. As you can imagine, it was hard to tag this one properly. Likely, no one will find it. Cheers!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, I don't know. This is a Bala-Tik-ish one shot set in our world and inspired by the actor who plays him, Brian Vernell. As you can imagine, it was hard to tag this one properly. Likely, no one will find it. Cheers!

A bead of sweat dripped down her back and she laughed into the summer sky.

The cider went down so easy -- the bite of the ginger hitting the back of her tongue and washing her throat with all she needed to bring bravery to her nervousness. 

He ran his hand through his hair again -- it was developing a sheen from the oils on his palm, and he continued to smile at her jokes, her incessant questioning, "what," at his accent as the drink made him more and more at home -- further and further away from her.

She felt like a fool, telling him her stupid stories -- thoughts about the stars and old, spent lives and singing and writing. She wanted to impress him, but he just leaned in to tug at her chin, his fingertips moistened, his lips plush and glistening.

She whimpered through her nose when he kissed her because the taste and feeling that lingered on him was a careful poison that brought all of her yearning to bear.

"I want you," she said, her voice heavy and her eyes full of the sight of him. That slight, upturned nose; that full lip; those deep set eyes; that thick, serious brow.

His fingers, so long, swept up into the thickness of he hair and kneaded against her scalp. His fingers were deft and she wanted him to touch every pour of her flesh. The soft hair on her neck stood for it, and she wanted to shed all of her clothes. She wanted to be a specticle just for him.

He pulled her onto his lap, her knees slamming against the back of the Adirondack chair in which he reclined, and she felt the swell of him between her legs. She was so solid and he was so lithe.

He bit at her lip and she cradled the back of his neck. He hummed at her and touched his hands under the thin cotton of her simple t-shirt.

"Yeah?" He toyed, his voice deep and honest. 

She reached out for her plastic cup, just a small swig left.

An ocean breezed stirred up in them and she wished for the sand on her knees -- his hips between her thighs.

A bead of sweat dripped down his neck and onto her finger. He smiled to the summer sky.


End file.
